Zack Martin, Super Spy
by sol invictus
Summary: When Zack is bored and the world needs saving from the evils of adult tyranny, who does he call to save the day? Secret Agent Zack Martin, of course. New chapter up after a six and a half year wait.
1. Chapter 1

"I don't want to hear any excuses, young man."

"But it wasn't -"

"Do you want to try for being grounded for another day? Because I can definitely go for that," Carey said, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. "You. Room. Now." Zack was about to protest one last time but his eyes noticed the pulsing vein over his mother's right eye. No, this was not a time to try to push his luck. She was barely hanging onto being mad and one more peep from him would probably push her over into the realm of being furious.

Zack sighed and turned on his heels. He'd accept the punishment, even though this time he really _didn't _deserve it, and be done with it. He walked like a man condemned to the gallows, stopping only slightly while in the doorway to look back at his mother. She twirled her finger in a gesture that clearly meant _close the door already, buster._

He flopped down on his bed and looked at everything he wasn't allowed to play with while he was being punished. There was the radio beside his bed, the stack of comic books beneath a plate with a half-eaten piece of pizza on it, an assortment of baseballs and basketballs...It all just mocked him. Zack crossed his arms tightly over his chest and closed his eyes...

...and opened his mind's eye.

Zack watched as the numbers on the elevator slowly spun up to 23 and felt the momentary no-gravity churn in his stomach as the car came to a halt. He was led down a dark corridor by two large goons with awful haircuts and ridiculously bad Russian accents. He tried to struggle but with his hands tied together behind his back and their ape-like paws digging into his shoulders he couldn't do much except walk where they pushed him.

"You very brave or very stupid, Mr. Smith," one of the goons said as he pushed hard enough to nearly make Zack stumble.

"Or, I should say 'Mr. Zachary Martin, OSA agent'." Zack turned his head enough to see the man smiling down at him. "Yes, we know. We know all about Mr. Martin's exploits in Europe."

Zack turned his head back to the hallway in front of him and set his mind to working. _If they know who I am they probably know what I'm doing here. And if they know that, they probably know enough to find my family back home. I've got to get out of here. Jeez, this guy reeks of vodka, what'd he do, bathe in it?_

"Get in cell, Agent Martin."

The goon tried to shove Zack through the narrow door but Zack dodged to the side just enough to hit against the wall instead. "Oomph," he moaned as he saw stars dance across his field of vision. He nearly squirmed away but the second, and probably stupider goon in his opinion, grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him back.

"Ivan, help get him in cell!" Zack was fighting for all he was worth but it was a lost cause. With no arms to use and being outweighed by at least a combined 400 pounds he was no match for the two men and was sent sprawling into the small room. His head rang as it smacked into the hard tile.

"We keep you here until boss arrive, little spy. Then we shall, how you say in American? Interrogate you for secrets." Both men grinned at him, dark and evil smiles, and shut the door.

As soon as Zack heard their thunderous footsteps retreat down the hall he struggled to his knees and surveyed the room. Probably a janitor's room that doubled as a holding cell, he figured as he looked over the mop buckets and cleaning supplies in the pale light. Zack got to his feet and backed himself toward the door and twisted the knob in the hopes that the two fools had forgotten to lock it. No dice.

Zack set about finding a light switch to better see his surroundings and found one. He flicked it on with his tongue and nearly gagged at whatever was on the small switch. "Blech!" he said as he spit onto the floor. Now he had to get his hands free if he was going to have any chance of escape from this hotel and get out of here.

Zack squatted back down and fished two fingers into his shoe. "Where is it...C'mon, where'd you go?" He whispered to himself as he finally found the small device his brother had made and he'd slipped into his Nikes before he tried to infiltrate this place. "I'll never call Cody a nerd again after this," he said as he clumsily thumbed a small trigger on the piece of plastic. His ears were greeted with a small _hiss_ and he carefully rotated his hand enough so that the little flame would burn through the cords binding his wrists. The device didn't hold that much fuel so he had to move quickly.

A few seconds later the little torch was starting to sputter but it held out just long enough for Zack to get his hands free. He stuck it back in his pocket and massaged some feeling back into his wrists. Zack then proceeded to thank whoever was responsible for allowing the two stupidest guards in Russia to catch him and not frisk him before they tossed him in this dank cell. Now to get out of here...

He pulled his government-issue phone (complete with cool new ringtones and a Red Sox screensaver) from inside his jacket and frowned as he saw no bars on the display. "All-over coverage my--" Zack was interrupted by a noise coming from down the hall. _Probably Tiny and his buddy bringing me my last meal, _he thought as he flipped the phone closed, an escape plan already having formed in his mind.

Zack put the phone in the back pocket of his jeans and quickly buttoned up his jacket. Cody would kill him for what he was about to do since it would surely totally screw all the little enhancements he'd stitched into the fabric but a spy had to do what a spy had to do. He grabbed a bottle of floor soap from a shelf and squirted a generous amount on the floor of his cell and a similar amount to the back of his jacket. Finishing his plan, he kicked the burnt rope out of sight and sat on his knees, calf muscles ready to spring, hands behind his back.

"Little boy, we bring you to boss now," Tiny called out as he reached the door. "Do not be trying any funny things." The knob jiggled and turned and Zack suddenly realized he'd not doused the light before he sat down. No time for that now, he determined, and settled back to wait for the perfect moment.

The door swung creakily open and there they were, Ivan and Tiny, both looking extremely pleased with themselves. "Up, little spy, up." Ivan said, motioning to him.

"I can't. I think you broke my leg when you threw me in here," Zack replied, adding a wince of pain to his face.

"I carry you then, like mother cat carries kitten." Ivan took a step into the room holding his oversized hand out to grab Zack, his foot landing just beside Zack's slick puddle. He let Ivan take one more wide step into the room and then whirled into action. He was on the tips of his toes in a split second and uncoiled like a spring, diving across the short distance between himself and the two goons. Zack hit the floor in the middle of the puddle and slid on his belly completely through Ivan's legs and out into the hall.

"Hey!" Ivan called out and Zack turned his head just enough to see the big man slip and fall to the ground with a boom, bottles and mop heads flying everywhere.

"Come here!" Tiny yelled as he lunged at Zack. One of his hands caught Zack's coat but thanks to the soap didn't hang on for very long. He gave Tiny as hard a shove as he could manage and couldn't help but grin as he quickly joined his comrade on the ground. Both men started yelling something in Russian but Zack had an idea that they weren't asking him over for dinner.

"Catch ya' later, losers," Zack said as he closed the door on the two men. It wouldn't hold the two of them for long but it might buy him a few extra seconds. He attempted to straighten his jacket but decided that it was a lost cause. Walking around with soap bubbles all over the front of him would cause more suspicion than he'd already garner so he dropped it in the nearest garbage can. He'd make it up to Cody somehow, he promised himself.

He made his way back through the hallway he'd previously been forced down and stopped to formulate a plan. He didn't have much time, that much was certain. The elevators were most likely out of the question as well. It wouldn't do for him to be trapped in them if the bad guys discovered he'd escaped before he made it all the way down from his 23rd floor prison cell. The stairs then!

Zack dashed around the corner, hoping that the sign he was following translated to 'stairs' and not something else entirely. His luck held out and he came to a set of double doors and crashed through them headlong. His little feet flew down the steps at top speed and he swung himself over the turn-about and landed halfway down on the next flight. _Under normal situations this would be a BLAST!_ he said quickly as he descended another two flights in rapid succession.

He'd come down eight flights and was just about to make it nine when he heard a bunch of commotion from further down the stairwell. He poked his head over the railing and saw a handful of rather angry looking men coming up his way. Zack's luck chose that moment to falter as one of them just happened to glance up and catch a glimpse of his hair as he ducked back down behind the stairs.

Something loud and angry was yelled up his way and Zack quickly turned around and headed back up a half-flight to the nearest door. He dashed through it, the sounds of many feet much closer than he'd have liked. He skidded to a halt and rapidly looked both ways in hopes of finding something that would help him get out of here. He didn't find much, just long hallways on each side dotted with doors every so often. "Great."

Zack set off to his left at a dead run, slowing just long enough to try the handles as he passed. Naturally they were all locked and looked sufficiently sturdy to keep him from barging through them. "Great," he repeated as he gave up any hopes of finding an unlocked door. From behind he heard a loud bang and turned to see the stairwell doors fly open and the men pour out, looking for him.

"Down there!" he heard yelled and Zack picked up his pace. Only one chance left, he thought as he started unfastening his belt. He unlooped it and stretched it out in his hands.

"Cody, if this works like you said it would..." he said as he dashed directly at the large stained glass window at the end of the hallway. Zack started to twirl the belt around his head like a lasso as he ran and let the buckle end of it fly a few steps from the window. He the fabric stretched many times its normal length and he heard the metal hit the decorative grillwork beneath the glass and hoped that everything worked.

He jumped, one hand shielding his face and the other holding on to the belt for dear life, and crashed through the glass with an incredible noise. He shot over the side of the building with a Tarzan-like scream and began plummeting outward to the ground, only to be snapped back towards the building by the elasticity of the belt. His momentum carried him closer to the building at tremendous speed and if it weren't for a brisk wind blowing him to his right, he'd have smacked directly into the brickwork. Thankfully he was pushed just far enough so he instead smashed through another window, this time into a room.

Zack rolled suavely to his feet, brushing the broken glass from his clothes and straightening his bow tie. He looked up and saw a stunningly beautiful blond woman sitting on a couch not five feet from where he made his dramatic entrance. "Hello, sweet thang," he said, not being able to stop himself from giving her a small whistle.

"Who are you?" the woman asked in English. _English_ English, he noted, not that broken speech he'd grown used to hearing here in Russia. She looked slightly surprised but not really scared. _Maybe spies crash through her windows all the time_, he thought and grinned.

"Martin. Zack Martin," he told her as he gave her a low bow.

"Do you always break through a girl's window, Mr. Martin?" She asked as she moved her robe slightly.

"Break them? Sometimes. Break through them? No, this is a first for me."

She regarded him silently for a moment. "Would you care for a drink, Mr. Martin?" The woman crossed the room and began filling two rocks glasses with ice and Sprite."

"Seems I don't have much of a choice now, do I?" He said with a practiced smile. "I'd love to have a drink." She handed him the bubbly glass.

"Bottoms up!" Zack toasted and knocked back the entire thing in one shot, grimacing slightly as the bubbles burned his nose. "Imported?" The woman nodded that it was. "That must have cost a fortune over here."

"I only drink the finest, Mr. Martin," she said as she sipped hers.

"Only the finest for the finest, I'd say," Zack told her as he set his glass down on the small bar. "As much as I'd love to spend the evening discussing your broken window and how I could make it up to you, I've got to get out of here." The woman set her own glass down and approached Zack.

"Then take this with you," she said as she kissed him sweetly. "May the luck of the Fitzpatricks keep you safe on your journey." Zack blushed despite his best effort not to. He moved over to the small table by the phone and scribbled on the notepad for a brief moment.

"If you ever make it to Boston, Ms. Fitzpatrick," he said as he ripped the paper from the pad and handed it to her, "look me up." She slipped it inside the front of her robe. She nodded coyly and gave him a small smile.

"Thank you for your hospitality, ma'am," he said as he stepped away from her, eyes on his feet as he went, too embarrassed to look her in the face. They didn't spend much time in training for situations like this.

"Take care, Mr. Martin," she said softly as he opened her door. Zack nodded back at her as he left, unable to form any words. He leaned against the outside of the door and exhaled the breath it felt like he'd been holding for years. Shaking his head, he took off again.

The stairs were out now; they'd be waiting for him for sure. Another window escape was out since his belt was still hanging somewhere two floors above him. He wracked his brain before it came to him. Zack dashed off again. He'd just rounded a corner and stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Ivan's voice. "Get little spy!" the brute of a man said as he pointed this fat finger at Zack.

"Scratch that idea," Zack said as he made his way back the way he came. Diving out the window again was looking better and better all the time. He ducked around a corner and passed another door and grabbed the knob, hoping against hope that he might be able to steal enough time to think of something. Luck seemed to be back on his side as door opened immediately.

He shut it quietly behind himself and looked around. A maid's room! _This might just work out after all!_ he thought as he searched. "Bingo!" The laundry chute! Zack shoved a large basket piled full of dirty sheets out of his way and looked down the dark tunnel. "Nothing to it, Zack," he said to psyche himself up as he rocked back and forth on his toes. He rubbed his hands together and dove in.

If he thought the leap through the window was fun yet terrifying, this was more of both. He couldn't see an inch in front of his face and he was shooting down fast enough to slick his hair back against his head. As much as he tried to fight it he couldn't help but scream as he finally saw a spot of light somewhere far below him. _Please oh please let there be something soft down there or else this is going to be a very short trip!_

The light grew larger and brighter at incredible speed and Zack closed his eyes and hoped for the best. He came out of the end of the chute and flew another few feet and crashed landed right in a middle of a basket of blankets and sheets.

"Awesome awesome _awesome_!" he said as he tried to climb out, one hand thrown lazily over the edge. Zack got his bearings and tossed himself over the side in a heap. _Gotta move, Zack, gotta move!_ He picked himself up, nearly tripping over a rogue blanket, and moved on.

He left the laundry room quickly behind him and passed through a number of service corridors before finding himself in a large kitchen. Where you found kitchens, you usually found outside doors!

"I knew I'd find you, Mr. Martin," a voice called out from somewhere behind the giant stoves and refrigerators.

"Moseby," Zack said in a calm and very not surprised voice.

"You're not as clever as you would like to think," Mr. Martin.

"Wrong as always, Moseby. I'm at least twice as cleverer as you think I think I am."

"We shall see, Mr. Martin, we shall see." Zack still hadn't caught a glimpse of the man yet, but he knew that Moseby, or Mad Marion as he'd been dubbed by the Feds, was stalking him.

"We can end this little game now, Zack. May I call you Zack? Good," he said without waiting for an answer. "You can give me the top secret information you are carrying and walk out of here."

"Yeah, right! Like you'd do that." Zack said as he tried to figure out exactly where Moseby was hiding.

"I might," the voice said but Zack knew better. You don't get to be called Mad Marion for keeping your promises to super-spies. "Last chance, Zack."

"I think I'm gonna have to say no on that one, Moseby." Zack had spent the time of the short exchange working his way towards the far end of the room and had made it as far as one of the dessert makers' stations when everything happened at once.

"Very well" reached his ears and almost before he knew it, Moseby was nearly on him with a raised rolling pin. Zack instinctively ducked backwards and grabbed a small bowl of flour and flung it in Moseby's direction. A loud sneeze told him that he'd hit his target.

Mad Marion started swinging wildly through the white cloud and Zack, backing out of his reach, looked for anything to help him. He spotted a large old-fashioned mixer and slowly made his way in its direction. As he passed the power switch he ducked another crazy overhanded swing and reached in for Moseby's tie.

Moseby yelled as he was pulled forward and tried to fight as Zack deftly threaded the tie between the large beaters. "Don't. You. Dare!" he screamed and Zack grinned as he flipped the switch. It only stayed on for a few seconds before it was tangled up but that was long enough to thoroughly ensnare Moseby.

The enraged man flailed his arms about, trying to alternately pull himself free and take off his tie. Zack slid a hand in Moseby's jacket pocket and pulled out a set of car keys and dangled them in front of his face.

"Looks like I win again, Mad Marion!" Zack said as he scampered away.

"Come back here!" Moseby said defeatedly as he gave up trying to extricate himself from the mixer. "Ivan! Victor!"

Zack ran out the back door and into the parking lot. If he knew Moseby's type, he'd have the flashiest, shiniest car in the lot. Probably red, too. Hopefully a convertible. There it was, parked far off by itself and immaculately polished, even the hubcaps shone brightly in the moonlight. And yes, a convertible. Zack wasn't surprised. He approached the car and zapped off the alarm and got in.

"What the? What is wrong with these people over here? Three pedals in their cars, toilets that shoot water in your face if you're not fast enough when you flush...sheesh!" He jammed the key in the ignition and turned it, the car sputtered to life, gave a small shudder and died. "Moseby has a shiny _clunker_?" he said in disbelief as he tried again, stomping the various pedals.

This time the engine roared to life and the car shook with power. "That's so much better!" Zack yelled over the roar of the engine. It took a moment or two but Zack figured out the working of a manual transmission with just enough time to spare to wave to his new friends Tiny and Ivan as they came out the side door and thundered across the parking lot after him.

"Hasto la visto, babies!" Zack cackled into the mirror as he laid twin strips of rubber down the dark highway, dropping the top and letting the wind blow his hair any which way it wanted...

..."Zack? Zack!" he was brought back to reality by Cody's voice calling his name.

"Huh?" Zack was slightly disoriented as he turned to the doorway and saw his brother.

"Mom said to tell you that you can come out now. She said she probably overreacted a little." Zack pushed his wind-blown hair back into place and got up from his bed. "That's alright. I had business to take care of anyway." He coolly walked out of the bedroom and into living room, leaving Cody with a very perplexed look on his face.

_fin_

Alright...first things first...after I reread the story a few times for flow and grammar, I decided that Ivan and Tiny both sounded exactly like Jumba from Lilo and Stitch. Not exactly a Russian accent, but it fit perfectly. It is Zack's daydream after all and I doubt he's heard much Russian! This might end up being part of a continuing series of Zack's daydreams but I'm not entirely sure yet.

I know I keep saying that I have fun writing these stories, and I really do, but this tops them all so far. Maybe three hours all together and it just poured out onto the keyboard. So, I hope you liked this as much as I did!


	2. Chapter 2

"Now class, what do you think Hawthorne meant when he said that Hester Prynne had to…" the teacher said and Zack slid down in his desk, letting his head come to rest on the back of his chair. Cody was one seat ahead and one over and Zack saw he was studiously taking notes. Zack looked up at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling and then glanced at the clock on the wall. There was still thirty-nine minutes left in this class. This torturous, mind-numbing, awful class. The second hand slowly made its journey around the clock's face as he watched.

"Are you still with us, Mr. Martin?" The teacher asked as she noticed him zoning out.

"Yes ma'am," he said as he sat back up properly, "I just had to stretch my back for a second."

"Good. I was afraid you might have not been interested in Nathaniel Hawthorne's classic."

"No, it's great," he told the teacher as he feigned interest_. It's so good that if I ever get insomnia it'll be the first book I reach for since it'll put me right to sleep, _he said to himself as he looked at the clock again. Thirty-eight minutes. His eyes caught Cody's and he saw a bit of sympathy in them. He shrugged back.

_ I have got to get out of here before I'm bored to death_. Zack's eyes drifted from the blackboard and its list of uninteresting facts and vocabulary words to the door. Six steps, maybe seven, separated him from freedom. He knew that he could turn the knob almost silently and he could squeeze himself out through a couple of inches of space. No he couldn't. Not really. Mrs. Williams would be onto him before he took his first step to the door. She just knew things. He sighed deeply.

Zack Martin, Sixth Grader, had no chance to escape from the room unnoticed. However, Zack Martin, Super Spy definitely could. He smiled at the sudden realization. The teacher could keep him here but she couldn't make him care. Zack let his mind wander while plastering an attentive look on his face.

The brothers sat in the back of a highly modified Kia Soul and were all but invisible from the outside thanks to the heavily tinted windows. Cody was coolly wearing a dark suit and a pair of wrap-around shades. Zack was frustrated with his khakis and white collared shirt. Cody had a sheaf of papers opened before him and was skimming through the top sheets while Zack struggled to knot his tie.

"Come here, let me do it," Cody said and Zack leaned over. Cody expertly looped and pulled and created a Windsor knot in three seconds. "There."

"It's strangling me," Zack complained as he tried to loosen it slightly.

"That's what ties do. You won't even notice it after a few minutes. Now," he said, returning his attention to the papers, "let's go over this one more time before we arrive."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Fine. My name is Daniel Middleton and I'm the new kid in school. I just moved here from-wait a minute...you know, I still can't believe you have me listed as twelve in the file."

"That's because you _are _twelve, Zack."

"You could have lied, you know. It's not like I'm going to be going back there again so you could have enrolled me as a ninth grader. The ninth grade girls are sure to be hotter than the sixths."

"You know your information, do you?" Cody shook the papers at his brother.

"I do," Zack said proudly.

"I guess you just missed the part where it says this is a all-boys _middle_ school." Cody snickered to himself when he saw the frown flash across his brother's face. "There are no ninth graders. There are no girls. We went with twelve because that was the first opening we had. And honestly? I wouldn't believe you were in ninth grade anyway."

"An incredibly short ninth grader forever cursed with a face as smooth as a baby's bottom?"

"No."

"Fine. Sixth grade it is." Zack rubbed his chin where whiskers would hopefully sprout within the next decade.

"If I may continue? Good. Since this is such a rush job, we don't have the amount of intel we usually have but you'll have to make do." Cody pulled out a couple of snapshots of a building. "This is your target. Another agent risked weeks of detention for this information. We received these two days ago but haven't heard from him since."

"What happened to him?"

"We don't know but assume that his cover was blown. Or worse."

"What could be worse?"

"This place is some sort of mind control factory for children, Zack. You do the math on what could be worse." The horror dawned on Zack's face and his flippant attitude dissolved. "Exactly. You go in as yourself and come back out as a mindless zombie."

"That is evil."

"I know. That's why we're acting on what little information we have now. It has to be shut down immediately if it's as bad as we think it is. And speaking of bad," Cody pulled out another picture and laid it on top of the others. It was grainier than the rest, probably taken with a telephoto lens from far away and enhanced as much as possible, but Zack could still see the evil in the man's eyes and he shuddered involuntarily. "This is the number one bad guy. We don't know much about him except that he's been running this place like his own little evil empire for at least ten years. The Soviets would be proud of this man, Zack. He calls himself 'Mr. James'. Zack studied the photo and committed the man's face to memory.

"Got it."

"Are you sure about all this? This mission? It's going to be dangerous and you aren't doing much more than walking in blind."

"I'm good to go," Zack said. "If it's as bad as you and the other suits think we can't wait until we know more."

"Okay." Cody tapped on the glass that separated them from the driver. The window motored down silently and the twins could see a pair of sunglasses looking at them in the rear view mirror. "Let's roll, Frankie," he said and the sunglasses nodded. The window went back up and they were off.

"Here's your backpack. It has the usual school crap in it so you look like you belong there as well as a few hopefully very useful extras. The drive with the custom virus is in there. Here's your phone," Cody told him as he set a sleek new cell on top of the backpack. "Just like we trained, remember? If it's electronic, the phone can probably hack it. You just have to give it time."

"I remember, Cody. Don't worry."

"I know, I know. I just want to make sure there isn't anything I forgot."

"Trust me, there isn't," Zack grinned.

"I hope not," Cody told him, completely missing his brother's sarcasm as he looked out the window. "We're almost there. Remember, you have an hour-"

"I know, Cody. An hour before the effects of the building begin to screw my head up. I go to homeroom for about twenty minutes and then to first period, which is English, by the way, and then I start the mission. See? I do pay attention sometimes."

"My little secret agent is growing up," Cody mocked as they turned into the middle school's parking lot. The Kia pulled up to the sidewalk and came to a stop while Zack was gathering his supplies. "Be careful," Cody told him.

"I will." Zack hopped out of the car and looked at the large building while Cody and their driver pulled away. "Let's do this," he whispered as he walked up the concrete to the main door.

Homeroom was over and Zack was sitting in his first class waiting for the perfect time to make his escape. The teacher, a Mrs. Emily Williams if the intelligence dossier was to be believed, had her back turned to him. Zack silently edged himself out of his desk. He picked up his small backpack from the floor and slid it over a shoulder. The soles of his shoes made no sound as he walked backwards to the door past the other catatonic students. He flattened himself against the wall and scooted the last few steps. His fingers encircled the door handle and turned it gently. It opened and he pushed until there was just enough of a gap to slide himself through. Once on the other side, Zack carefully closed the door again.

He had to complete his mission fast before he fell under the thrall of this terrible place and its evil principal, the mysterious Mr. James. He felt the lethargy already beginning to cloud his mind and he pulled a bottle of soda from his backpack and guzzled the yellowish fluid. Cody's research indicated that massive amounts of caffeine would counteract the effects of the building but not for long. He had less than forty minutes to shut this place down and get out before he lost all willpower and hope. He slid the empty bottle into his pack and wiped his upper lip.

Zack stayed near the wall as he sneaked down the corridor. His eyes searched the ceiling for any signs of hidden cameras but surprisingly found none. He didn't complain and took it as a good sign. Their intelligence on this building was spotty but it made sense that Mr. James would never expect a spy in such a sensitive area. This was a suicide mission. Zack squatted down and crossed in front of another classroom door on his hands and knees.

He picked himself up as he walked past a row of lockers. He glanced at the complex security mechanisms and wondered what secrets were hidden inside. They could be holding anything in those vaults. If he only had more time to find out... Zack checked his watch and saw that he had just thirty-six minutes to get everything done and get out of here. They would have to keep their secrets.

Zack scurried beneath the window of another door and paused, listening. Satisfied he was alone in the silent halls, Zack continued on his way. He passed two more doors and found himself along another large wall of lockers between classrooms. He edged his way along and came to an abrupt stop. What was that? There it was again. Zack cocked his ear and listened. Boot steps. Big boot steps by the sound of them. Zack panicked as he realized he was stuck in the open. His eyes spied the word _Boys _stenciled over a doorway and he dashed to it, his queasiness at entering such potentially foul place overpowered by his need to hide.

Zack opened the door to a stall but shook his head negatively after one step. "No way," he said as he looked inside. "Gross. Can't do it." He backed out of the stall with a retch and crouched behind a aluminum trash can as the footfalls grew louder and closer. _Clump-clunk. Clump-clunk. Clump-clunk. _ Zack stole a peek over the lid of the can and saw what had to be the biggest man he'd ever seen his entire life slowly walking by. He had an angry crew cut, square jaw, and Zack wondered where they made uniforms big enough to fit him. The man had a metal baton that looked more like a gigantic baseball bat than a nightstick in one hand and a radio in the other. Zack sank back below the lid as the monstrous man's head turned towards the bathroom.

Zack exhaled as the footsteps receded. "I bet his name is Tiny." He stood back up and tiptoed to the doorway to look down the hall. He waited until the man turned the corner and disappeared from sight before stepping from the girls' room. He moved stealthily across the floor and soon came to a stairwell. He looked around the corner and saw the stairs were empty. Five quick paces took him past the steps and to the other side.

If he remembered his briefing correctly, his first target was just a room or two ahead. He glanced at his watch and saw his time rapidly slipping away. Zack frowned but continued on. There it was. A wooden door with frosted glass and the words _Teachers Lounge_ written across it in black paint. He sat his backpack on the marble floor and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He took a small flexible cord from the backpack and plugged one end into his phone and slid the other end beneath the door.

Zack tapped a button on his phone and a grainy video of the inside of the teachers lounge appeared on the screen. He moved the cord back and forth, panning around the room, and saw that it was empty. He smiled to himself as he detached the cord and slid it back into his pack. Zack stood up and held his phone over the lock. A display popped up as his phone talked to the door. Numbers flashed and settled and he heard a small _click _from somewhere in the lock. If the program worked like Cody said it would, the door should be unlocked and the alarm deactivated. Steeling himself, Zack turned the knob and pushed the door.

There were no sirens or flashing lights when he stepped inside the room and once again he marveled at Cody's technical prowess. "Eat your heart out, Apple store," Zack said as he gently shut the door and looked around. He whistled to himself as he looked at the enormous treasure trove sitting before him. File after file after file sitting out completely unsecured. Zack stepped to a desk and picked up a thick manila folder and scanned its contents. He found a rather interesting handwritten manifesto halfway through the stack. "Brainwashing. Pure brainwashing," he said aloud and shook his head. He read over the neatly bullet-pointed lists and was disgusted. _Grammar lessons shall be used to destroy the subjects' free will. The diagramming of sentences shall be used to break their spirit and to impose a sense of order and uniformity. Hours of homework are to be assigned each night to ensure the subjects have no energy to think for themselves. Drab uniforms are to be employed to induce conformity and docility. _Zackcould only shake his head while he read.

"I knew it. I totally knew it but no one would believe me," he said as he kept flipping through the folder. This discovery alone made his mission's risks worth it. He set it aside for the time being and picked up a stack of papers with a picture of a boy somewhere near his age paperclipped to the top page. "Poor kid," Zack said as he scanned through the boy's file. _Subject number 128643 seems to be resisting usual rounds of reprogramming. Recommend upgrade to Algebra II Protocol immediately. -B2. -Approved ._

Zack's brows furrowed as he read the name. "James," he muttered under his breath.

Zack pulled his phone from his pocket and began snapping shots of all documents within easy reach. This room was a gold mine of information and he had all the proof he could ever need. "I told them," he muttered as he took scores of high resolution pictures from yet another folder of documents_._ He glanced at his watch and saw that he was down to just over twenty minutes. Now that he had confirmation of the terrible things that went on in this facility, he had one more job to attend to. He replaced everything as close to its original position as he could remember and went to the door.

He cracked the door and put his ear to the opening listened for five long seconds. Satisfied he was still alone in the hallway, he crept from the door and shut it quietly behind himself. Things were going well so far, he knew, but this was the easy part. The principal's office was his second target and it was sure to be well guarded.

"Young man? Do you have a hall pass?" A voice called out, pulling him from his reverie. Zack's head whipped around and he saw a very stern looking woman standing in the doorway. Where did she come from? Her hands were clenched at her waist as she studied him carefully. "Your hall pass, please." Her voice sent a chill down his spine.

Zack gulped and quickly looked both directions for a way out. The woman asked him for his pass yet again and took two robotic steps toward him. Zack pretended to pull something from his pocket to show her but dashed away instead as she reached out her hand. The stairs were near, he knew, just up ahead on his left. He turned back to look just in time to see a black high-heeled shoe come flying his way. He ducked and its heel embedded itself deep within the concrete wall. Its mate joined it less than a second later and barely missed him. The echoes of her bare feet slapping on the marble chased after him.

Zack ran the incomplete map of the facility through his head as he dashed down the steps three at a time. He grabbed the bannister in a death grip and flung himself around the switchback and to the second set of steps. He reached the bottom of the stairwell and turned to his left. He made five steps before the security guard he had seen earlier magically appeared in front of him. Zack yelped and skidded to a halt. The two locked eyes for a second before Zack turned and ran in the opposite direction. As he dashed down the hallway, Zack passed interrogation room after interrogation room, each full of dozens of hapless youths looking at the chalkboard with their ghostly and vacant eyes.

Zack turned a corner at top speed and heard the booming steps of the man somewhere close behind him. He was running out of options fast and he knew it. He sprinted as fast as his short legs could carry him and thankfully saw a hiding place just ahead. He dashed through a doorway and his nose was instantly assaulted by the musty smell of old sweat and dirty clothes. He turned his head to glance at the rows and rows of wire mesh lockers and benches and didn't see the puddle of water on the floor ahead of him.

His feet went out from under him and he skidded across the tiled floor in a blur. Zack came to an abrupt stop when he collided with the wall with his limbs all akimbo. He saw stars and opened his eyes to find himself staring up at a shower head. Zack rubbed at the knot that was already forming on the back of his head as he stood up. He frowned when he discovered the large wet spot on the back of his khakis. "Perfect. Looks like I wet my stupid pants," he groused as he shook water from his hands.

He carefully walked out of the massive shower room and listen for any sign of pursuit. There was commotion coming from the hallway and Zack grumbled. "Not good." He looked around the room for another way out and saw a smaller hallway leading away from the lockers. He followed it cautiously, keeping his body pressed against the smooth wall. Zack soon reached a junction and looked both ways. To his right was a solid wall but another hallway led away to his left. Not really having any other choice, Zack chose left.

The end of the hallway was brightly lit so this approach was more careful than before. A row of bleachers sat on the wall right outside the doorway and he hid behind them as he took in the scene. "What _is_ this place?" he asked himself. He seemed to be a large open room with a wooden floor that was decorated with all sorts of colored lines and circles. There were dozens of kids, all in matching striped uniforms, standing in rows and listening to the commands of the overseer dressed in a white T-shirt and black and orange sweatpants.

"Fifty jumping jacks. Go," the overseer said as he paced in front of the group. Zack watched as the man soon picked out a young victim stood before him. "What's the matter, Smith? Jumping jacks too hard for you?"

"N-no, sir," the boy stammered.

"I didn't think so," the man said. "Now do them right or else you will be climbing the rope." The man pointed across the large room to a braided monstrosity hanging from the ceiling.

"Anything but that, sir," the boy pleaded and Zack could see him tremble.

"Then get to jumping, boy," the man said as he went to berate another unfortunate soul.

Zack felt his blood begin to boil as the man demanded the boys switch from jumping jacks to push ups. "This is so wrong," Zack muttered. Having seen enough, he picked his way between the crisscrossed support bars that held the bleachers together and came out on the other side. A few feet away were stacks of blue mats, racks of balls, and other nefarious equipment lining the walls. Zack sneaked to the mats and proceeded to crawl along the wall, taking care to keep himself well out of sight. He jumped to his feet and dashed to the nearby door. He looked back over his shoulder and shuddered as he saw the boys had moved on to squat thrusts.

The double doors swung open on well oiled hinges and Zack stepped into the hallway. He quickly moved back up the corridor and retraced his steps from earlier. He heard voices ahead of him and cursed his luck. He was never going to get finished with his mission at this rate. He hurried to the nearest doorway only to find the knob locked. He pressed himself flush against the door and held his breath as he waited for the approaching voices to pass.

Three middle-aged women, all in equally severe charcoal grey suits, slowly walked by his door. They were deep in conversation and paid him no mind as he waited for them to pass. "This is getting risky," he said softly. He looked back after the women and saw daylight from an exit at the end of the hall. He shook his head as he thought about the poor boys he'd seen just seconds ago. No, he wouldn't have another chance at this. He had to do it now. For them. Zack thought back to his briefing and was almost positive that a large cafeteria spanned much of this end of the facility. One door opened from this corridor and a second opened on the main hallway. There would be kids in there but his time was running out and he'd have to risk it.

Zack scurried to the door and looked in to see nearly a hundred children milling about or sitting quietly at long tables. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, doing his best to blend in with the crowd. He made his way across the floor with little incident. He glanced into the kitchen area and saw an dumpy individual clad in a hazardous materials suit step out from a cloud of green smoke with a tray of what looked like pizza but smelled like wet cardboard in her arms. His stomach barrel rolled. "This place has to be shut down no matter the cost," Zack said under his breath. The other door loomed ahead and he casually strolled to it.

It was open and he walked out into the main hallway. He took a deep breath and began the longest short walk of his life. He saw the large glass windows of the main office and the tightly coiffed hair of the secretaries inside. "Here we go," he said, setting his shoulders and walking with purpose. He stepped inside and instantly gazed around. One secretary was on the phone and doodling while the other tapped away at a keyboard. Neither seemed to pay him much attention until he walked around the counter.

"Can I help you, young man?" one finally asked after his first step over some imaginary line.

_Crap!_ He said to himself. _So close_. "Um…The principal's office is back there, right? Mrs. Williams asked me to give him something. It'll just take a second."

"He's not in his office right now," she told him.

"I'll just leave it on his desk then," Zack said and continued walking. He heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and the woman called after him again. Zack ignored her and headed directly to the back office. He shut the door and locked it and scrambled to the computer. He slung his pack on the desk and pulled out a small USB drive and inserted it into the computer's tower.

"Okay Cody, do your magic." Lines of code began flashing across the screen too rapidly to read as the drive unpacked its code onto the computer. Fists began to pound on the wooden door while he watched the status bar slowly creep forward. "Come on, faster faster faster!" he whispered.

"Come out of there, little boy!" the woman called as she banged even harder upon the door. "You're going to be in big trouble!" Zack scoffed and pulled his phone from his pocket. He sent Cody and his pickup team a short text message: _Done. Bring lunch._

Cody's virus had finished uploading and began spreading throughout the school's intranet within seconds. Fire alarms began to ring and class bells chimed but beneath all the noise, the virus' true purpose began to manifest as every last single bit of data within the entire school was overwritten with pictures of cute kittens and puppies. "Aww," Zack said as the computer's background was replaced by a picture of a kitten batting at a ball of string. "You can has yarn, little kitty," he grinned.

Zack pulled the USB drive from the computer and stuck it back in his backpack. He was done here and now he simply had to escape. He slid the straps over his shoulder and went to the door. He unlocked it and pulled it open and found a completely surprised secretary standing in front of them. "Sorry, I thought this was a bathroom," he said and walked calmly past her. Her shock had broken and she reached out in an attempt to grab his collar but he dodged out of the way.

"What did you do?" she screeched.

"Something that should've been done long, long ago." The secretary looked inside the office and saw a LOLcat on the monitor and let loose a bloodcurdling scream. Zack smirked as he left the office and stepped into the hallway. Students were running every which way and he joined the flow heading for the main door. Zack stepped into the warm sunlight and started walking down the sidewalk with his head held high. Mission accomplished.

"Stop right there Agent Martin," a deep voice boomed from behind Zack.

Zack stopped in his tracks and turned around. Standing a dozen paces away with a briefcase in one hand and a completely out of style hat on his head was the man he came to take down. "Principal James," Zack said with contempt dripping from his tongue. "I thought I smelled your foul stench the moment I set foot in this building."

"Don't almost quote Star Wars to me young man. I should have known you'd show up here eventually after we caught your other spy."

"What did you do with him?" Zack challenged.

"Trigonometry, Agent Martin, trigonometry."

"You... _monster_!"

"I would stop worrying about him if I were you, young man. He doesn't seem to mind anymore but you...you are in so much trouble right now."

"What are you going to do, Principal James? Your little empire is no more."

"I was thinking," the man said as he opened his briefcase, "about detention for the rest of your life." Principal James pulled out a handful of papers and flung them at the boy. Zack flung himself backwards into a deep backbend as the flying papers ripped through the air an inch above his belly, missing him but cutting a small Honda Civic to ribbons. He straightened back up and laughed at the man.

"I'm busy that day." Zack spared a glance down the road that passed in front of the school and saw a familiar Kia speeding in his direction. "The day after isn't looking that good, either." Zack began to slowly back up.

"This isn't over young man. Stop right now or I'm going to have to call your mom."

Zack froze in his tracks and his bladder became heavy as terror coursed through his body. The man had played his trump card. His kryptonite. Zack took a deep breath and tried to force his numb limbs to move. "No!"

"Oh yes, young man, I'm sure she'll be really interested to know what you been up to."

"No, you can't do that," Zack said as he looked at the man, a hint of a smile beginning to form on his face.

"Oh yes, yes I can. When we go back into my office and we'll talk about this while we get her on the phone."

"No, really, you can't." The hint of a smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin. "See, you don't have her number anymore. You don't have _anyone's_ number anymore." The Kia sailed through the parking lot and screeched to a halt directly behind Zack. Zack shook off his remaining paralysis and threw himself into the car.

"This isn't over, Zack!" The man yelled as hundreds of his young charges fled the building and scattered to the four winds. "This is not over!"

"Zack? Hey, the bell rang. Class is over. We're going to be late to history if you keep sitting here." Zack shook his head and reluctantly left his daydream and was a little surprised to see his brother standing before him. "C'mon, Zack. Let's go."

"It would seem," he said as he hazily looked around the room and saw two dozen students of both genders packing up their belongings, "that this isn't an all-boys school after all." He dropped his textbook into his pack and walked to the door, leaving a completely perplexed Cody in his wake.


End file.
